A Cacophony of Katydids

 The good news is, Rachel Carson was wrong.   Well, she may prove to be right one day about a “Silent Spring”, but it has not come to pass yet, at least not here in the Hill Country of TX and more specifically, not in my yard.  The katydids, which appeared as early as April, have gone through their several stages of instars and now, with new wings developed, are having a grand time staging nightly rock fests right outside the window.  It finally got hot enough to close our windows at night, but even with that, the walls veritably thrum with their stridulations, which is the technical term for the sound they make rubbing their wings together.

 Again, TX is keeping me off balance, calendar-wise.  This should be a late July, early August sound in my NE mind and yet, here it is May and the band is playing.  A lot of people complain about the noise, and bring in the exterminators, but I, of course, think it is divine.  Yes, they eat leaves, flowers, and stems of things but I seem to have enough leaves, flowers, and stems of things to go around.  So far, I have not had the place denuded because of them.  So, no exterminator for me, thank you.  Besides, even the gardening books claim they are not a threat to crops, more, just a noisy nuisance, and I feel quite sure, their racket would warm the heart of Rachel if she were still among us.

Like everything else in TX, these katydids are HUGE!  And they not only come in the classic green, but in chocolate brown, and some with a thorax that is red and all with the impossibly, long antennae that this family of Tettigoniidae is known for.  I know most of you know they make their noise by rubbing their wings together, which is why, in Eric Carl’s children’s book, “The Very Quiet Cricket” the cricket (cousin to the katydid) is so quiet. It simply isn’t an adult with wings yet, until the last page of course.

The females have an impressive sword like ovipositor (egg depositor) that looks more like a machete than a sword on my humongous ones, and later in the fall (well, in the rest of the world this would be in the fall, who knows what will happen here!) she will slice into a twig or branch and lay this wonderful column of eggs that will overwinter and then spring out in spring and begin the march through the 5 or so instars all over again.

 Each time they shed their exoskeleton and have a new one it is called an “instar”, a new word for your crossword skills, finally resulting in those wonderfully veiny wings that look like leaves and provide such effective camouflage.  It is only the male that has the rough edges that produce the sound that is music to the female’s ears.  You also probably know that her “ears” are located on her front legs.  They are a species that has “incomplete” metamorphosis, no pupa for them, just give me wings and let me fly.

 What has been amusing is, when they can’t fly, they just hop out of my way, appearing far more like frogs than insects and consequently, have provided a good surrogate for the toads of my Cape Cod yard that I, and the dog, both miss.  Birds and praying mantis find them high on their menu so, for the zillions that I had covering my porch, they may not all make it to the egg laying stage, which is as it should be.  So carry on Katydids, the dog and I both find you more than entertaining, and, as I have sleep issues anyways, it is fun to hear who is still going at 4 AM. There is always that one hanger-on at any party that just doesn’t know when to quit.

Man, next year, I must attend the Austin “Insecta Fiesta” where the worlds largest katydid makes an appearance, surely of the same species that I have on my porch, and one can witness the somewhat squeamish sport of “cricket spitting”.  I would say “only in TX” but no, this got its start in Purdue, in Indiana, for crying out loud.  

 You insert a cricket in your mouth and spit it as far as you can. In Indiana the record stands at 32’, but the Texans were all excited about the Guinness possibilities of their “spit” for it was the first “outdoor” cricket spit.   If they had “film at 11”, I am afraid I missed it.  Well, that’s what makes life so interesting, always something to look forward too. 

The sun has risen and I hear that the daytime crowd is warming up, for there are some species that call by day.  And, here’s another skill I might want to perfect in my dotage.  They say that each species has a different call, so some day I must get a high-powered hearing aid and see if I can tell the difference.  But now, there’s breakfast to be made. Happy “Noisy Spring” everyone!